


Selling So Much More Than Clothes

by imsodonewithlarrystylinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: /no my grammar isn't that bad i'm trying to be drunk duh/, i've been writing this for three months, idek what this is, obscene amounts of nicknames and drunken slurred words, yeah this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 14:20:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsodonewithlarrystylinson/pseuds/imsodonewithlarrystylinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“‘m sorry. I’m clumsy.”</p>
<p>"Yeah, I could tell by the way you banged your head against the front window. Goodnight kid."</p>
<p>As Louis closed the shop and walked home, he couldn’t help feeling slightly guilty for being so rude to the clumsy boy in the shop. But he didn’t let himself linger on that thought long, when is he ever gonna see the kid again anyway?</p>
<p>Turns out the answer is the following Thursday. Louis is working his usual morning shift, flipping through an acting textbook he’d taken from Liam’s house with one hand and drinking a cup of coffee with the other. Usually he wouldn’t be drinking coffee, but it’s 11 am and he only got three hours of sleep last night and his tea wasn’t cutting it.</p>
<p>Or, the one where Louis works in a thrift shop and Harry is a clumsy baker from across the street who just can’t seem to stay away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Selling So Much More Than Clothes

Louis hates his job. He hates it with a passion. But it's the only place in walking distance of his house and ever since Niall and Liam totaled his car, it's the only option he's got.

The thrift shop is small and old. Louis thinks it used to be a liquor store or party store of some sort, judging by the bottles of alcohol left in the cabinets and the mysterious brown stains on the dusty tile floor and the flashing red OPEN sign hanging in the front window. Louis hates the stupid music he has to play that reminds him of an elevator in a fancy hotel.

He hates that he works two shifts a day during the work week. He hates that he has to open the store at 7 am every single day ( _"That's inhumane!"_  he had shouted at the manager Chris when he first started working there.") and work until noon, then has an acting class from 1 to 3, then goes to his vocal lessons at 4:30 until 6, then goes back to the shit hole he calls work at 7 and closes at 10:30. 

He doesn't remember signing up for that.

The bell above the door rang and he looked up to see an old man wearing wirey silver glasses and jeans that were at least two sizes too big on him. Louis sighed and went back to his phone, aimlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed, liking pictures every few minutes. The man wobbled around the store looking through the racks and humming along to the music playing softly through the speakers of the shop.

After 45 minutes or so, the man finally came up to the register and handed Louis three flannels, some jeans (again, much too big to possibly fit him correctly), and a scarf before very slowly handed him the money in exact change. After ringing him up, the shop was quiet for an hour and he was getting ready to close early because they were having an especially slow day. It wasn't always slow, but being a thrift shop tucked away in the corner of downtown Chicago, Sundays aren't very busy.

He had just turned off the sign in the front window and was crouched behind the counter gathering his things when he heard a loud smack against the glass door.

He jumped, dropping his things onto the ground, papers scattering everywhere. He popped up from behind the counter to see a tall boy with curly hair rubbing his forehead, looking much too exasperated as he did so. Louis huffed and rushed over to the door and knocked on it, causing the boy to jump and look at him.

"Jesus kid, can't you see we're closed? Are you trying to give me a heart attack or are you trying to break in and just failing miserably?" He asked angrily. Maybe he was being harsh, but it's quarter after 9 and he just wants to get home and curl up in bed. Sunday is supposed to be his not so late night shift, so he's tired and grumpy. He's only human.

"I'm sorry, I just got off work from the bakery across the street and I'm only now getting time to get over here. I would've-"

"I don't care. Go home and come back tomorrow morning at 7:30 when we open again." The boy sighed and took his hand away from his forehead, revealing a dark red substance on his fingers.  _Shit, if Chris finds out I'm the reason this kid's skull is cracked, I'm dead._

"Shit, you're bleeding. Come in here." He quickly unlocked the door and grabbed the boy's arm, tugging him inside.

He had only just realized how tall this kid really was. He was at least 4 inches taller than Louis and had giant hair to add to it, though he had an adorable little baby face. He went behind the counter and grabbed a few tissues from the box. While he was rushing around to find a band-aid, the curly haired boy was standing calmly and quietly at the register, hands now in his pockets.

"Bend over, you're too tall for me to see way up there." Louis huffed to the boy, who laughed in response but did as he was told. Louis dabbed at the cut on his forehead, sticking his tongue out in concentration.

"I just want to go home, why'd you have to go and bang your big head on the window?" He sighed, unwrapping the bandage and sticking it onto his forehead.

"'m sorry." Curly said, not looking very sorry at all.

"Why would you even think about coming down here after you're done with work? It's just a shitty little thrift shop in the corner of town." The boy shrugged and wiped his fingers off on the tissue Louis had handed him.

"I like clothes that are already nice and soft. Loved up, you know?"

"Wouldn't you rather be the one to 'love them up'?" The boy laughed and tossed the tissue in the trash can next to the pile of Louis' belongings.

"Well, I really like thrift shops. I like vintage stuff, you know? Looking for the good stuff is the best part." Louis looked at him plainly with confusion spread all over his face. This boy wasn't dressed in vintage clothing; he had tight black jeans on and a large brown jacket with fur on the edges.

"Well, you can't buy anything now, we're closed."

"But c'mon, I'm already inside! I know what I want, I was here a few days ago and I hid it really well, it should still be there." Louis held in a laugh because, of course he hid it. How childish.

"Fine. But hurry up. I want to go home already." Harry nodded and rushed to the back of the store and into the women's dress section. He started rummaging through the rack, moving a large fluffy dress away from a black bodycon dress. He grabbed a red flannel and clumsily stumbled back up to the register.

"That'll be $7.94, thanks. Now get out." Louis said harshly, bending over to pick his papers that were now scattered all over the floor back up.

"Do you want some help? Looks like a pretty big mess." Louis huffed and stood back up, turning around to face Curly Flannel Boy again.

"Well it is your fault anyway, a little help couldn't hurt."

"Mine?"

"Yes, yours. You crashed into the window and startled me, so I dropped all of my shit onto the ground. Hence the mess all over the floor." The boy's face turned red and he looked down at his feet.

"'m sorry. I'm clumsy."

"Yeah, I could tell by the way you banged your head against the front window. Goodnight kid."

As Louis closed the shop and walked home, he couldn't help feeling slightly guilty for being so rude to the clumsy boy in the shop. But he didn't let himself linger on that thought long, when is he ever gonna see the kid again anyway?

Turns out the answer is the following Thursday. Louis is working his usual morning shift, flipping through an acting textbook he'd taken from Liam's house with one hand and drinking a cup of coffee with the other. Usually he wouldn't be drinking coffee, but it's 11 am and he only got three hours of sleep last night and his tea wasn't cutting it.

It's been a relatively busy morning so far, but Jack is at the shop with him so if things got too crazy he could step in and help. He and Jack had been friends for a while now and since they both worked at the same place, they had gotten pretty close.

"Hey Jack, can you keep it calm until Sarah gets here? I need to get to class."

"I thought class wasn't till one?"Jack asked, looking up from where he'd been staring at a pair of dusty brown boots. Louis shook his head.

"Not that class, my vocal teacher wasn't available at the usual time today, so we rescheduled for earlier." Jack nodded and Louis grabbed his coat before heading toward the back door.

Louis cursed himself for not bringing a heavier jacket when he knew he had to walk in the cold. On his way to class, Louis realized he had left his coffee at work and by now it was probably cold. There was no point in turning back now so he decided to go into the closest coffee shop he could find.

He'd never seen it before, probably because he didn't usually look for coffee shops on his venture to work. It was a small brown building, a bit smaller than the thrift shop, called Any Way You Bake It. He quickly opened the door and stepped inside, away from the freezing cold Chicago air.

He was immediately overwhelmed by a beautiful smell; a mixture between coffee, cinnamon, and icing. He wanted to capture it in a bottle and open it in his house. He looked around the small shop, glancing at an old couple sitting at a table by the window and a young looking girl with large glasses who was hunched over a book on the opposite side of the room.

The shop was small and dim, the walls were painted a dark orange color and the furniture was made of old brown leather. If the lights were fully on, it would probably look hideously distasteful. But with the lights dimmed to a comfortable level, it gave off a very welcoming home-like vibe that made Louis warm inside.

He took his hands out of his pockets and rubbed them together in an attempt to create some warmth as he walked up to the counter. He peered through the glass case at all of the treats and pastries inside. There were dozens of cupcakes and cookies, along with loaves of bread, muffins, cake, and brownies.

"See anything you like?" Louis' head shot up to the voice coming from behind the counter. When he looked up, he was met with the face of the green-eyed, curly haired boy who had so embarrassingly ran into the shop window a few nights before.

"Oh, you again...you work here?" Louis asked, glancing at the boy's dirty white apron and flour-dusted cheeks.

"Nah, I just like to come and steal their aprons and bake for them sometimes." He smirked. Louis looked up at him in confusion, much too exhausted to have gotten the joke.

"It was supposed to be a joke, but clearly that went right over your head. Either that or I'm awful at telling jokes." He laughed and leaned against the counter.

His smile was so beautiful Louis could weep.

"Oh. Right. Well I came for some coffee, but I think just a tea will be fine now."

"Alright, do you want any milk or sugar?"

"Two french vanilla creams, no sugar. Thank you." Curly smiled at him and hurried to the kitchen. Louis sighed and sat down at a small table, shucking off his jacket and scarf, laying them both down on the chair across from him. He continued looking around the shop until he heard the sound of glass being set down on the table. He looked up to see big green eyes and a wide smile.

"Thanks." Louis reached across the table for his jacket to get out his wallet, but Harry shook his head.

"This one's on me. You patched me up then let me shop after hours even though I kept you late. It's the least I can do." Louis smiled and internally thanked the boy because he's almost certain Jack stole the last $5 out of his wallet.

"Well, I'm gonna be late for class, so I should go. Maybe I'll see you around, um can I get this in a to go cup? I'm sorry." Curly kept on grinning and shrugged.

"Keep the mug, we have plenty. And yeah, you probably will, I need a new jacket so you'll most likely see me in a few days." Louis scoffed.

"If you want a new jacket, why don't you go buy one from a department store or something?"

"Aren't you supposed to be reeling customers in, not pushing them away?" Louis laughed out loud at that, blushing when he realized how right he was.

"I guess so, my bad." Louis put his jacket and scarf back on and grabbed the mug.

"Have a nice day!" The boy shouted as Louis headed toward the door, back into the cold. He silently swore to himself on his way out, realizing he still hadn't asked the boy for his name. He made a mental note to ask him the next time they saw each other. All he could think about during class was the boy with the shiny eyes, curly hair, and beautiful smile.

His teacher told him to get his head out of the clouds.

*******

The boy was right, he was back at the shop on Monday morning.

"Isn't it a little early to be awake and out and about?" Louis said with a yawn, holding his coffee cup close to his body.

"I'm an early riser, I guess. The early bird gets the worm, right?" He remarked and Louis swore he saw him wink. He turned his back to the smaller boy and walked toward the coat rack. Louis spluttered on his coffee, spitting some out onto the counter.

_The early bird gets the worm is a gay reference to whomever wakes up first wakes the other up with a blowjob. Why would this kid know that phrase? Louis shut up, it's a normal saying too, not just some kinky sexual act._

"What's your name, kid?" He looked up.

"I'm not a kid, but my name is Harry." Harry. How fitting for a boy with hair bigger than his head. Well, at least now he knows who this big gangly boy really was.

"Oh, sorry, you just look young. I should probably introduce myself too, I'm Louis." Harry turned around and smiled at him and no, Louis didn't blush.

Okay, maybe a little.

******

Louis wouldn't call them best friends, but they had gotten progressively closer over the course of a month. They still hadn't really "hung out" anywhere besides the bakery or the thrift store. When they were at the thrift shop, they talked about school. Harry was majoring in painting, minoring in English and corrected Louis' grammar more often than not. If it were anyone else, Louis would punch them. But it was Harry, so he didn't mind.

Louis told him about his opinion on college and how he thought it was extremely annoying and stereotypical for people to think they have to go to college just because "that's what everyone does". ( _"Well, growing up, you never hear people say 'Oh, what are you going to do after high school? No college, right?' so everyone just feels obligated to. That's stupid." He would say._ ) Though Harry was in college, he would just listen with his eyebrows furrowed and ask questions like if he ever wanted to go to college or if his family did.

Louis would explain how he hated that everyone assumed they had to get a degree to reach their dreams because that's what everyone was raised to know. (Because of course, everyone goes to college and those who don't must obviously end up failing miserably and you never hear about them again, right?) 

When they were at the coffee shop, Harry talked about all the different kinds of cakes and pies and breads there were. He would tell him which were his favorites and how they differed in texture or taste or smell or how they were cooked. ( _"Who is honestly going to be able to tell if you whip the batter or just hand mix it?" "Are you kidding me?! Believe me, it makes a world of a difference.")_

Harry would take orders and make coffee or tea while talking to Louis from the kitchen as he worked.

"Have you ever noticed that we've never hung out anywhere besides where we work?" Harry asked one day while he was trying on random shirts at the thrift shop. Louis was laying on the counter reading a book like he usually did when the store was deserted.

"Yeah, I have. Is that weird of us?"

"I don't know, guys hang out at each other's houses or apartments right?" Louis paused. He didn't hang out with guys, he "hung out" with guys. He hadn't actually  _hung out_  with a guy besides Liam or Niall since high school, which obviously wasn't something to be proud of, but it was part of who he was and he couldn't erase it from his past.

"Uh, I don't really get to the hanging out part with a lot of guys..." He said as Harry was coming out of the fitting room holding his shirt. Louis tried not to stare at the two swallow tattoos inked onto his collarbones.

"Oh Lou, I'm so sorry." He replied, concerned frown etched onto his pretty little face.

"That's alright, it's my fault really. Haven't exactly been looking for someone to settle down with. And you don't really meet many guys you'd want to be 'friends' with at the bar." Louis replied with a sad smile on his face, slowly sitting up on the counter and setting his book in his lap.

"I'm your friend." Harry said, pulling his shirt over his head. Louis liked that about Harry; he was an insanely friendly person even if you were an asshole to him. It could probably get him in a lot of trouble if he let too many people walk all over him, but he did it anyway.

It was getting to be mid-afternoon and Louis' shift would be over soon. He began gathering his things together and setting them next to him on the counter in a pile.

"Do you actually want to hang out with me?" Louis asked nervously, hopping off the counter. He took the fedora from Harry's hand and rang him up for it. (Seriously, who buys hats from a thrift shop? Louis can't remember ever seeing him in something that he might've actually bought from a real store.)

"Yeah, I do. Why wouldn't I want to?" Harry wondered, frowning over at the smaller boy across the counter.

He was so beautiful Louis could cry.

Harry was the definition of unique. He could ramble on for hours about nothing and Louis would listen just to hear his voice. Harry often talked about painting and the different kind of brush strokes there were and how adding just a little bit of white can change the color completely. He would talk about his studio he had at his house where he painted, and how it was so messy and cluttered and that was only because he would get so into the zone when he's working that he never cleans it. He was so passionate and beautiful about the things he loved that he made Louis feel like a speck.

"I'm a pretty boring person, don't you think?" Louis was being completely serious, he found himself very plain and probably not very fun to talk to. Harry was mirroring Louis, putting his jacket and scarf on as Louis did the same.

"No, I don't think. Not even a little bit." Louis turned away as he pulled his jacket on to hide the blush on his face. Ever since he became friends with Harry, he'd gotten much more used to receiving compliments and much better at actually accepting them.

"Well thank you." Harry opened the door for him and they walked out into the cold winter air.

"Do you wanna come over? If you don't already have plans." Harry asked nervously. Louis felt his heart swell in his chest at the way Harry's voice cracked when he was nervous. It made him realize how young Harry really was, being two years younger than him but so mature, it was easy to forget sometimes. He watched as the tall boy drew shapes into the snow on the ground with the toe of his boot.

"I don't have any plans, I'd love to come over." Louis said with a smile and a reassuring hand on the shoulder. Harry beamed and pointed toward his car as they began to walk toward it.

*****

Harry had a beautiful house. It didn't look like anything special on the outside, but once you got inside, you were amazed with how it really looked. The house had wooden floors and white walls along with black leather furniture and glass tables. For being a 20 year old, he sure had a lot of easily breakable things in his house.

"Why is it so big? Aren't you the only one who lives here?" Louis had asked, sitting down on the couch.

"It's not big, it's just clean and empty. I've had roommates before but right now it's just me." Louis wanted to fill the emptiness and make it into  _their_  house.

They mostly played Call of Duty and talked all night, but since Harry sucked at the game and ended up with 87 deaths and 13 kills, they decided to try something else. Louis' stomach growled and he wrapped his arms around himself and laughed.

"I should probably get going, it's dinner time and I'm starving."

"No no no, don't worry. I can make us something for dinner." Harry protested, grabbing Louis' arm as he tried to get up from the couch.

"Harold, is this your idea of asking me on a date?" Harry blushed a deep pink and looked at the floor.

"No! I just, uh, I wouldn't..erm-"

"Harry, I was joking. I know you wouldn't go on a date with me. You're a bit out of my league." He said with a dry laugh.

"That's not what I meant, Louis." He got up from the couch and shrugged. He knew it was true even if Harry wouldn't say it out loud. Of course he wouldn't, he's Harry.

Louis has been told many times that he wasn't worthy of a relationship or being loved or being happy. He didn't really believe he wasn't worthy, but he definitely didn't see why any guy would waste their time with him. He didn't have an exciting college major to talk about, he didn't have an exciting or fun job, he had no car, and there wasn't a penny to his name. Why bother? Whenever he got tired of feeling sad and lonely, he started going to clubs and having one night stands.

That's what he was used to anyway; going to a club, getting fucked or letting someone fuck you, then being tossed right back to do the same thing the next night. He had the ass that drew people in, but didn't have the personality to make them stay. He didn't mind it most of the time, but when he started falling for a guy or felt particularly lonely, he would end up calling Liam crying and he would rush over and find Louis on the couch burying himself in a pint of ice cream and tears. Then he would proceed to cuddle him and share the ice cream while they watched a funny movie to distract him.

"Where's your bathroom?" Harry pointed to the end of the hallway.

"I'll be back in a minute." Louis turned to walk down the hallway. He didn't need Harry's pity nor did he want it. He just wanted a friend and that's what Harry was.

Except that Harry was perfect. Harry wasn't even just attractive, he was fucking breathtaking. In every tiny part of him there was beauty. In his big shiny green eyes and smile and dimples there was beauty. In the way he hummed as he baked or poured cups of coffee or tea there was beauty. In the way he listened to people with genuine care when they talked and how much passion he had for the things he loved there was beauty.

Harry was such a genuinely nice person and he treated Louis with the most respect, care, love, and affection that any guy ever had. He was used to the fuck and chuck, he was used to that. But now that he'd met Harry, all of a sudden there was an amazing boy who was so wonderful to him and actually cared about him. And that was a lot for Louis to take in.

When he got back from the bathroom, the living room was empty.

"Harry?"

"In the kitchen!" Harry called. When Louis walked into the room, he found Harry in a frilly pink apron standing in front of the stove with a pot of water boiling and a pan or mushrooms frying. Louis laughed loudly and pulled himself up onto the counter.

"What on earth are you wearing?" Harry turned around with mock hurt showing on his face.

"Do you not like my pretty apron?" Harry smirked slightly but tried to keep the frown on his face. Louis grabbed the front of his apron and pulled him closer to his place on the counter.

"I absolutely love your apron, my darling Hazzaland." They locked eyes, smiling at each other until Louis realized what he was doing. His stomach dropped and he pushed Harry aside and hopped off the counter.

"I, uh...I think I should go. Thanks so much for today, I had an amazing time." Harry frowned seriously now, eyebrows drawn together tightly.

"Wait, but I'm making food-"

"I know, I'm sorry. I have to go, I have to uh, yeah. Thanks Harry, bye!" Louis said, rushing to grab his coat and run out the door. He was in such a hurry to leave that he didn't see the horrifyingly disappointed look spread across beautiful boy's face.

******

When Louis got home, he dropped his jacket and keys onto the floor and walked straight to his room and into his bed. He covered his face with his blanket and closed his eyes, sighing heavily. He liked Harry, really, he did. But he couldn't let himself fall any harder. He knew he would never stand a chance with a guy like him anyway.

Harry was stunning in every way possible. His hair is shiny and beautiful, done up every day in the same swoosh as always. His eyes are the perfect shade of green that you rarely ever see in someone's eyes; dark green with an even darker shade of green around the outside ring. They're speckled with little gold and brown flecks and they were so welcoming that it was easy to get lost in them. He wore the strangest vintage clothing but pulled it off so well that nobody ever said anything to him or judged him for it.

And don't even get Louis started on Harry's body. He's tall and skinny with a long torso and even longer legs. He has so many tattoos inked onto his perfect pale skin that you would never expect such a soft guy like him to have. He's funny and quirky and dumb in all the right ways that made him fun to be around. His voice is deep and gravelly and it made anyone he spoke to fall in love with his voice.

Harry was perfect and Louis was Louis. Plain, boring, and extremely lonely Louis.

He could feel himself falling for Harry and he couldn't let that happen. He couldn't bear to fall for another guy who wouldn't even try to catch him. Harry is an amazing person and Louis wanted to be his friend. He didn't want to put Harry in that awkward place of knowing that one of your friends has feelings for you that you can't return.

That night, Louis fell asleep with nothing in his stomach and an ache in his heart.

*******

Louis avoided Harry all week. When he would see him coming up to the store, he got Jack to cover his shift until he saw him leave. He came up with every excuse possible to leave, including that he had taken up smoking, while also having developed arthritis, a bladder infection, and asthma. (Maybe not the best two lies to pair together, but hey, it had worked.)

But after two weeks, he saw Harry coming up to the shop and he couldn't get away.

"Jack, cover for me, I need some air. Thanks!" He exclaimed, quick-walking toward the door.

"Oh no you don't." Jack growled, reaching out and grabbing Louis' shoulder so he couldn't get any farther.

"I've seen you avoiding that kid for like 10 days and whoever he is, he obviously cares about you enough to come back and ask why every day. I'm not covering your ass this time, Tommo. You're on your own." He said, closing the drawer of the register and walking into the back room.

Louis' heart sped up and his palms started sweating, very aware of what was about to happen. Harry was going to come in here and yell at him for avoiding him all week and then Louis would cry and run home to Liam who would cover them with a blanket and cuddle him on the couch until he felt better.

He heard the bell above the door jingle and he crouched behind the counter in hopes that Harry wouldn't notice him and maybe he'd just leave. But Louis has never been very lucky and his luck sure wasn't turning today.

"Hi Lou." He heard Harry say. He scrunched his face up in displeasure, knowing he had no way of getting out of this now. He slowly stood back up until he saw Harry's face.

Of course he looked gorgeous, when does he not look fucking gorgeous? Louis hates him for it. Okay, maybe not.

He had a brown jacket on with a red scarf around his neck. His skin was pale now that it was winter time and his nose was pink from the cold temperature and it made him look like a little boy.

He looked so cute Louis wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and kiss him.

"Hey." He said, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Have you been avoiding me?" Harry asked, eyebrows drawn together like they always did when he was frustrated or listening hard. Louis looked down at the counter, ignoring Harry's question.

"Well I know you have been, so you don't need to answer that. But can I ask why? What did I do?"  _Nothing!_  Louis wanted to scream.  _You did absolutely nothing and I'm head over heels in love with you and you're out of my league so I'm trying to fight it!_

But Louis knew he had to tell him the truth. He couldn't deal with the sadness in Harry's eyes and the despair in his voice, knowing that he was the reason it was so.

"I don't want to waste your time." Louis gently whispered. He didn't want to look up and meet Harry's eyes.

"Waste my time? How on earth do you think you're wasting my time? I thought we'd become really great friends over the past two months." Louis felt his heart drop. There was that word again.  _Friends. Friends. Friends._

"Erm, well, I don't know. Just..yeah."

"I wanted to call and ask you what was going on, but I realized I still don't have your number. Even after two months." Louis plastered a smile onto his face and handed his phone over to Harry and asked for his in return.

He could pretend that he didn't like Harry. He could pretend he didn't want to kiss him every time he said something dumb. He could pretend that whenever Harry talked about his family and loved ones like they were the the stars in the sky, that he didn't want to be one of those stars more than he'd ever wanted anything. He'd just have to try harder.

Before Harry left the store, Louis told him that he would text him when he could, but Harry texted him first anyway.

**_Hey Louis. :-)_ **

**_I'm still at work, you weirdo. You literally just walked out._ **

**_I missed you. :-(_ **

Louis tried not to blush and ignored the butterflies erupting in his stomach.

_**What, are you in love with me? ;)** _

_**Not yet.** _

Louis accidentally squealed in delight.

_**Don't get my hopes up, loverboy.** _

Louis hoped he wasn't being too forward, but even if he was, he could just say he was joking. Harry didn't have to know.

On his birthday, Louis woke up with a kink in his neck and a stuffy nose.  _Great._  He thought.  _How am I supposed to get some any with a runny nose and bleary eyes?_  He silently cursed his mother for damning him with such a weak immune system.

Luckily, he got the day off on his birthday and he could stay home in bed as long as he wanted to. But he still had bad luck, and it didn't care if it was his birthday; the doorbell rang. Louis groaned and huffed before getting out of bed and going to open the door.

"You woke me up on my birthday and forced me to get out of my nice warm bed and now it's freezing as hell and-"

"Happy birthday!" Liam was standing in his doorway with a present tucked under his arm and a small cake in his hands.

"Ignore everything I just said, have I ever told you how much I love you? Gimme that cake." Louis cheered, taking the cake out of Liam's hands.

"I didn't really wake you up, did I?"

"You should know by now that a doorbell isn't going to wake me up, Payno." Liam laughed and put the box down on the table.

"Right. If a fire alarm doesn't wake you up, a doorbell won't either. I don't know how your alarm gets you out of the bed in the morning."

"That was once!" Louis laughed and grabbed two plates, two forks, and a large knife. Sure, it was only 11 am, but it's his birthday and he can have cake if he wants to.

Around 4, there was another knock at the door. Liam and Louis were on the couch talking about Zayn and Harry with the TV playing as background noise.

"I'm just saying, if you like him, you should ask him out, it's not that hard. Anybody, Zayn especially, would definitely date you." Louis said, getting up to open the door.

When he opened it, he came face to face with a cold and shivering Harry. His nose was red and his eyes glimmered like the snow falling around them. He had a small cake in his hands; it had blue frosting and white piping along the edges. In the middle, it read  **Happy birthday Louis!**  and it had white snowflakes falling around it. Louis' jaw dropped and when he looked up to meet Harry's eyes, the younger boy began to sing.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Louis...happy birthday to you!" Louis' heart skipped a beat and he felt his face break out into a blush.

"You remembered!" Louis said happily, large grin on his face.

"Well, you've only been talking about it nonstop for the past two weeks. I couldn't possibly forget." Louis blushed harder, realizing how true that was. He did that every year; he told everyone around him how many days were left and what he wanted for his birthday. He was like an eight year old.

"Oh... right. Come in, Liam's here too." Louis stepped out of Harry's way so he could come inside and closed the door behind him. Liam laughed and waved to Harry as the younger boy took off his snow covered jacket.

"Right, asking the guys you like out isn't so hard, huh?" Louis flipped his middle finger up at Liam and led Harry to the kitchen.

"You know, you really didn't have to bring me a cake. Liam bought me one." Louis laughed, taking the small cake from his hands and setting it on the table.

"I didn't buy it though, I made it." Harry blushed and smiled at Louis.

"You, you made this? You made me a cake? Nobody has ever made me a cake."

"Not even your parents?" Louis shook his head and frowned.

"They always bought them, I never got a homemade one." Harry's mouth fell open, astonished.

"That should be a crime! I think you need to have some of this  **right**  now." Harry opened the drawer and grabbed a knife and then reached up to open the cabinet to grab a plate. He cut a small piece out of the cake and set it down on the plate in front of Louis.

The inside of the cake was just as beautiful as the outside. It was marbled, a perfect swirl between chocolate and vanilla. He took a bite and closed his eyes, taking in the amazing mix of flavors. It seemed like a tiny little thing, but a homemade cake tasted so much better than a store bought one.

"This is amazing, Harry. Thank you."

"That's because I hand mixed it instead of using an electric mixer to whip it like most cake stores do. They don't take the time to put any love into it like I did. Didn't I tell you it made a huge difference?" Louis laughed and stuck his finger into the frosting and smeared it across Harry's cheek.

"You're gonna pay for that, Tomlinson!" Harry grabbed the rest of the cake off of Louis plate and chased after Louis, who had fled the kitchen.

*******

That night was Louis' birthday party. His house was packed full of people from high school, old jobs, and old friends from throughout the years. He invited Harry at the last minute, but now that the night was going on, he couldn't seem to find him.

Louis was drunk; three heavy shots, two beers, and an extremely strong margarita deep.  _("But a margarita is a girl drink, Pez!" He had shouted at Perrie as she milled around the kitchen preparing the fruity drink. She just ignored him and grinned. "Ahh, but you're the birthday queen, you have to have one!")_ His face was flushed, his limbs were loose, and he was feeling nice and warm. Perfect.

"Leeeyum, haveou seen Haarrry? I c-*hiccup*-can't find him!" Louis slurred, grabbing onto Liam's shoulder to steady himself.

"Last time I saw him he was in the living room talking to Niall. Maybe you should be done drinking for the night, Lou. You're already wobbling and I'm sure you remember what happened last year." Liam worried, reaching over to take the cup from Louis' hand, but the drunk boy just snatched it away.

Yes, of course he remembered what happened last year. Last year Louis had gotten a bit too drunk and got up on the dining room table and started to sing at the top of his lungs. He tried to start dancing too, but lost his footing and fell, hit his head and got knocked out. Needless to say he woke up the next morning in more pain than just a hangover.

"'m fine, leave'e alone!" He tore away from Liam's grasp and found his way into the main room that was buzzing with people. He spotted a tall body topped with brown curly hair pushed up and back away from his face. He stumbled over to him and Niall with a smile on his face and a drink in his hand. When he came over to them they were laughing, but Harry's attention immediately turned to Louis and his eyes sparkled.

"Hey Lou, enjoying your party?" Niall laughed, glancing at the red plastic cup in his hand and his droopy eyes.

"Why nes, Yiall, I am. Harry, areya ha-having fun?" He looked down at his cupless hands and frowned. "Where's your drink?" 

Harry laughed loudly and shook his head.

"I've had two beers, I'm feeling nice and buzzed. You don't have to be wasted to have a good time, you know." Louis rolled his eyes.

"Well I knooow thaat, Niall do'ou mind if I steal him away fr-from you for a little bit?" Niall shook his head and laughed again.

"Yay 'ank you!" Louis shouted with a smile. He grabbed Harry's hand and tugged him away from the blonde boy and up the stairs to the guest room.

"Louis, what are you doing?" Harry asked, nervousness evident in his voice.

"Areyoudrunk, Harry?" Louis said, setting his drink down on the desk and moving closer to the bed where Harry had sat down.

"Buzzed, I guess. Not nearly as drunk as you." Louis smirked. He knew what he wanted and his drunk brain believed Harry wanted it too.

"Do'ou know..howpretty you're?" Louis rambled, brushing his hand against Harry's thigh.

"Thanks I guess.. Louis, stop, you're drunk." Louis just ignored him and crawled up onto his lap.

"Drunk enough to still know that I've wanted to do this since you first ran into my window." He smiled at Harry, who was visibly uncomfortable beneath him. But because he was Harry, he still nervously smiled back at him.

"Don't be like this, Lou. You're drunk and you don't know what you're doing." Louis huffed at him and folded his arms over his chest, wobbling from side to side in the process.

"Yes do! Just cause I'm drunk dodn't mean 'm not being honest. In fact, I'm m-more honest when I'm drunk than when I'm soer." He hiccuped and Harry grabbed his waist so he wouldn't fall over.

"Everyone is, that's part of being drunk. It doesn't mean you want to tell me, you're not going to remember any of this in the morning." He stopped and thought about that, would he remember this when he woke up?

"I think bout kissing you lot. It's my birthday, thatshould be m' gift." He wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and leaned his head against Harry's.

"Whoa, you...what?" Louis, I already got you a gift, it's at my house, I'm gonna give it to you tomorrow. God, you're so drunk."

"Nowait, shhh-it'll be fine, letithappen." He looked down at Harry and slowly leaned down and pressed his lips against the younger boy's. His brain went crazy, all thoughts rushing around in his head. But his thoughts were interrupted by Harry's hands gripping underneath his thighs and lifting him off of his lap. He opened his eyes and saw Harry now standing next to the bed, looking down at him.

His brain took a minute to process this information and when the realization of what he'd just done dawned on him, he wanted to smack himself in the face.

He kissed Harry and Harry didn't kiss him back. Drunk Louis just completely humiliated himself in front of sober Harry.

"Wait,no. Don't leave, I'msoorry. I'm an idiot, please don't hate me." Louis felt his stomach contract and his throat got warmer, He was going to throw up. In front of Harry. Shit.

"I need to, ahhfuck I'm. I'm going tothrowup." He declared, hopping off the bed and pushing past Harry. He tossed open the door and turned and went the bathroom, kneeling down in front of the toilet right as his stomach churned again and the contents of his stomach came pouring out of his mouth. He retched over the toilet, closing his eyes to avoid seeing the mess he was making. He abruptly felt a warm hand rubbing his back and another holding a cold wet cloth to his forehead.

"It's okay, I'm right here. You're okay." He heard Harry's soft soothing voice behind him, reassuring and gentle. He then realized what his night had turned into and what had happened just a mere two minutes earlier. He came onto Harry and kissed him and he didn't kiss him back. Then to make matters worse he made an even bigger fool of himself by throwing his guys up in front of the same boy.

_Why am I such an idiot? Why can't I keep my drunk thoughts to myself?_

He then began to cry, tears running down his cheeks as he continued to gag. He reached up to close the lid and flush the toilet, resting his head on the lid and crying quietly.

"Hey Lou? Look at me." Harry was still rubbing his back with one hand and holding a damp washcloth in the other. Louis couldn't bear to look at him after this, not with tears in his eyes, sweat on his temples, and the taste of throw up in his mouth. He kept his eyes closed and tried to slow his breathing down.

"Louis, I'm serious. C'mon now." He didn't move.

"Damnit Louis, look at me right now!" Louis had never met anyone who could keep their voice so gentle even when they yelled until he met Harry. Even though Louis was now sobering up, he was still sensitive and emotional, he didn't need somebody screaming at him right now. He looked up at the tall boy and frowned.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize for anything, it happens to the best of us."

"I'm sorry you had to see that." He mumbled, frowning at the ground. Harry knelt down next to him and tilted his chin upward with his fingers and moved his hair out of his eyes.

"Don't be sorry, I could've walked away if I wanted to. You're completely shitfaced, I wasn't just going to leave you to pass out in a pule of your own puke." Could you really blame him for falling so fucking in love with this boy?

"Thank you."

"No problem. You're my best friend and I'd do that for you all over again if I had to. Now c'mere." Harry grinned and stood back up, opening his arms up for a hug. Louis beamed back at him and slowly got back up on wobbly feet, wiped his mouth on the washcloth, and fell into Harry's arms. He was glad Harry wasn't drunk too, because he definitely wouldn't be able to hold himself up right now. He was dizzy and lightheaded, no longer riding on the fun part of his alcoholic adventure.

"I still don't feel good."

"Do you need to throw up again?" Harry asked, resting his chin on the top of Louis' head.

"No, 'm dizzy. Wanna lay down."

"Okay, come on." Harry took Louis' hand and carefully led him down the hallway to Louis' large bedroom. He didn't bother turning the lights on, figuring that wouldn't help Louis' dizzyness at all. He led him over to the bed and helped him sit down.

"Do you wanna get changed?" Louis shook his head.

"Can't stand, couldn't get out of m'clothes." Harry nodded.

"I can help you if you'd like." Louis felt his face flush, and it wasn't from the alcohol. He's half drunk, exhausted, dizzy, and nauseous, and here's this beautiful boy that Louis' grown so fond of who is now asking if he can help him get changed.

And who is Louis to say no to that?

"Sweatpants're in the bottom drawerover there." He motioned over to the dresser and watched as Harry walked over and shuffled through the drawers in search of a pair of sweatpants. He came back over with a dark gray pair and held them up for Louis to see.

"These okay?" Louis nodded and slowly sat up, trying to get the dizzy swirls out of his eyes. He grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up over his head, then he carefully stood up and held onto Harry's bicep as he quietly undid Louis' jeans and wiggled them down his legs.

It felt so foreign to him; usually when guys are undoing his fly, it's not to help him get changed. He's not used to getting this kind of gentle care and attention and he didn't know whether to cry or thank him. Or both.

Louis stepped out of his jeans when they reached his ankles and Harry helped him stay upright as he stepped into the sweatpants. Harry pulled them up to right below the waistband of his boxers and stood back up.

"Okay?" Louis nodded again and laid back down, curling up into a ball and sighing heavily.

"Want me to lay down?"

"If you don't hate me..." He whispered. Louis' brain hurt and he really didn't want Harry to hate him. He was the only person besides Liam and Niall who he hung out with on a semi-regular basis.

"I don't hate you, Louis. I could never hate you." Harry sighed, laying down next to him and pulling him into the crook of his shoulder. Louis breathed in Harry's scent, really hoping that he wasn't just saying that to make him shut up about it.

"I'm tired."

"Then sleep."

"I don't feel good."

"Then sleep, Louis. It's alright."

And that was when Louis passed out.

*****

Louis awoke the next morning with sun shining in his eyes, a pounding in his head, and an ache in his stomach. He grumbled as he sat up, the bed sheets around him soaked with sweat. He scratched his head and looked over to the other side of the bed, finding it empty. His heart sank.

Harry.

Harry had left him, just like Louis knew he would. He began to feel sick again and he hurried to the bathroom before he could make another mess. After a much needed trip to the toilet, he got into the shower and took his sweet time washing his hair and body. Not like he had anything to look forward to.

When Louis came downstairs, his house was a wreck. There were cups everywhere, along with empty pizza boxes and paper plates scattered around. Some of his closer friends were still passed out around his house, cups still in their hand or phones laying on their chest.

_This is exactly why I don't throw parties regularly._  He thought. The mess that came with the fun was too much for Louis to deal with, that's why Liam always threw the party for him. His gift would come the next morning when he would come over early and bring Louis some water and motrin, before spending the rest of the day cleaning up the messy house.

_Speaking of Liam, where is he? Usually he's cleaned half the house by now. And where the hell did I put my phone? I really hope it's still here..._

He had been searching for 45 minutes for his phone when he finally found it in the basement underneath Niall on the couch. When he got it turned on, it was flooded with text messages.

_**Le-yum!: Had to get Zayn home, be back later to clean** _

_**Mom: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETS! Hope you're having fun, but not too much fun! ;)** _

_**Niall: whered ya go ? been lookin for ya !** _

_**Niall: i think zayn and liam left tgether. think tey finally shagged** _

_**Niall: i dont want t think about that ! cnt find harry either** _

_**Zayn Malik: remind me 2 buy u a car for ur next brithday i owe u** _

Louis laughed, putting two and two together and hoping Liam finally asked him out. The next few texts in his inbox made his palms sweat and his heart rate speed up.

**_Hazberry :D: Hey, I had to get home. My sister and I skype every Christmas morning and I couldn't bail on her._ **

**_Hazberry :D: I'll be back later, I have a surprise for you. Merry Christmas!_ **

_Surprise? I don't need any more surprises. I don't even know if I can deal with seeing him.._

But nonetheless, he sent a reply back and cut himself a piece of the cake Harry made him.

**_OK, I'll be here. Merry Christmas. :)_ **

**********

While he waited for Harry, he tried getting a start on cleaning the kitchen, but Louis wasn't very good at that, and he ended up giving up and going back upstairs to his room.

Around one, there was a knock on the door, followed by the doorbell. Louis groaned and got up off his bed, head still pounding and stomach still whirling. He got to the door and opened it, being greeted by an adorable, red nosed, shivering Harry.

"Merry Christmas!" Harry shouted, eyes bright and smile wide.

He was wearing a long brown jacket with gloves on, clutching a large blue package in his shivering arms. The bright white snow contrasted with his dark hair and green eyes, making them appear to be glowing.

"Merry Christmas, Hazlan. Come inside, it's freezing out there." He motioned inside and Harry followed, shaking the snow out of his hair like a dog.

"It's a wreck in here! Why haven't you cleaned up yet?" He laughed, finding a clear spot on the table to set the present down.

"That's Liam's job, not mine. He's supposed to be here cleaning right now, but he's probably too busy fucking Zayn at his place. Merry Christmas to them." Louis frowned, sighing heavily.

"He finally asked him out?"

"Well, no. But Niall said they went home together last night." Harry wiggled his eyebrows and laughed loudly.

"So it really was a white Christmas for them, huh?" Louis closed his eyes and cringed, trying not to picture Liam and Zayn fooling around. Louis had seen Liam's dick and it's not exactly play size; Zayn's a small guy and there's not a lot to him. Liam could easily break him in half if he went that hard.

But still, Louis was jealous of him. How come he finally got to be with the guy he's liked for three years on one of the most romantic holidays of the year? Yeah, maybe he'd been waiting longer and probably deserved it more, but still. It'd been two months since Louis met Harry and at least 5 months since he'd gotten laid.

So he was horny and in love. Sue him.

"Harry that's disgusting! I would never want to walk in while they-" Right then, Liam burst through the front door, out of breath and covered in snow.

"Sorry it took so long. I took Zayn home last night then helped him nurse his hang over this morning."

"Sucking his dick doesn't count as nursing him back to health." Louis snapped. Liam's face turned bright red as Harry stifled a laugh with his hand.

"I'm sorry, I'll start cleaning now. Merry Christmas, Harry." Louis wandered out of the room and to the den, Harry following closely behind him.

"Can we go upstairs to my room? It's the only part of the house that isn't an absolute disaster right now." Harry raised his eyebrows at him.

"That depends. Are you going to come onto me again?" He questioned sarcastically. Louis huffed and crossed his arms turning his back to Harry and starting up the stairs alone.

"You know what? Fuck off, Harry. I was drunk, leave me alone." Not a total lie, but also not totally the truth. Yeah, he was drunk, but he did it because he liked Harry and didn't have the balls to do it when he was sober.

"Wait Lou, stop. I was just joking, I didn't mind. Don't be mad at me." Harry responded, hurrying up the steps after him and grabbing his hand.

"Wait, what?" Harry shook his head and Louis was utterly lost.

"Nothing, nevermind. C'mon, let's go."

**********

"You were passed the fuck out last night, Lou." Harry mentioned, running his fingers through Louis' hair.

"Yeah I know. Sorry again." Louis replied, digging his face into Harry's chest.

One of the many things Louis loved so much about Harry was his gentle nature. He loved hugs and cuddling and sweaters and blankets, he was a genuinely sweet guy to everyone and it was near impossible to stay mad at him. (He's got that sad baby face and worried eyebrows look down better than anyone Louis has ever met.) Cuddling with him was one of Louis' favorite things to do; Harry was warm and soft and smelled like the coffee and cupcakes from the bakery. He was always up for cuddling, no matter what day month or season.

"What do you mean again?" Louis twiddled his fingers, thinking of how to answer Harry's question.

"Well I apologized like a thousand times last night, so I'm saying it again today." Harry's hands stilled in the small boy's hair.

"Oh."

"Yeah. I told you I'd remember." Louis got nervous, hoping to God that this conversation would go smoothly.

"So then you know that you kissed me. You're aware of that, right?" Louis nodded.

The room became silent, except for the sound of the vacuum Liam was using downstairs. Louis shifted on Harry's chest, turning his face up toward the younger boy.

"I didn't want you to think I was taking advantage of you, you know? Like, if you woke up this morning and only remembered half of what happened, that'd make me look terrible." At least he was honest about it, unlike some other guys who didn't give a shit if he was drunk or stoned or sober, they would fuck him and chuck him nonetheless.

"Yeah, I guess. I'm sorry." Harry tilted Louis' face up to his.

"Stop apologizing for everything. It's not that I mind you kissing me, but you were drunk and I wasn't and that wouldn't be right, you know?" Louis thought his heart stopped.

"Wait wait wait, you...huh?" Harry helped Louis off his chest and sat up on the bed.

"C'mon, I still have to give you your present." With that, he got up and grabbed Louis' hand, leading the way.

When they got downstairs, Harry went and got the huge box off the table. He led Louis into the freshly cleaned den and sat down on the couch, patting the spot next to him.

"It's kind of a birthday present/Christmas present I guess, since they're right after the other." Louis tore the paper off the box and opened it.

Inside was a bottle of his favorite vodka, a box of coffee, the sweater of Harry's he always borrowed, a box of chocolates from the bakery, a CD, a pile of Disney movies and scary movies, and a card on the very top.

"Well what's this beautifully random mess of stuff?" Louis beamed over at him.

"The card explains, open it."

_Hi Lou :-)_

_So this box is full of some of your favorite things, from alcohol to chocolate to Disney movies. But I don't want you to hurt yourself, so please drink and eat these with precaution! Safety first :-) Over the past few months, you've grown to be one of my favorite things. Even though I got a concussion, I wouldn't go back and change it for the world. Because when I hit that window, I met you. I really love you and it was like fate's way of hitting me head on with pure love when I ran into your window that day. I hope you feel the same about me, because if not...well that'd be awkward._

_Love, Hazberry ♥_

Louis looked up at Harry, his heart fallen into his gut and his hands shaking.

"I know it's just a box of shit and a card, but I was honest, I really do love you. So will you please finally be my boyfriend?" Louis nonchalantly pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming; he wasn't.

"Oh my God, Harry. Yes!" He sat the box down on the couch next to him and jumped onto Harry's lap, hugging him properly.

"Now let me properly kiss you." Harry brushed Louis' hair out of his eyes and leaned forward, connecting their lips.

"I knew it, I knew it! Liam, you owe me $20! I told you Harry would do it first!" Niall yelled from the kitchen. Louis started to laugh and Harry grinned, pulling their lips apart and resting their foreheads together.

"See, that was better than some drunken makeout sesh, right?" Louis smiled and pecked him on the lips again.

They spent the rest of their day watching the moves from the box, even the scary ones that Harry hates so much. Louis held him during the really scary parts and held his hand during the rest. The other boys laughed at them for being so touchy feely, but they couldn't care less.

Louis felt like he was in a dream; floating on cloud nine, drowning in wonderful thoughts of  _HarryHarryHarry_. What he'd been wishing for for so long had finally happened and he couldn't be happier.

So maybe he didn't hate his job so much and maybe he should thank the other boys for totaling his car. Maybe he didn't think the bakery was un-matching and poorly lit. And maybe he did actually like his job. Besides, it's not every day you find love in a thrift shop.


End file.
